


Wait For You

by MagicalQueerFolk



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Could be set before or after the not quite armaggedon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Make of it what you will, and them in general tbh, as for what they were doing before, idk how to spell it, it just works for this, listen to wait for you by tom walker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25577167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalQueerFolk/pseuds/MagicalQueerFolk
Summary: I'm terrible at summaries but this is just an angsty songfic for these ineffable bastards. I promise it's better than it sounds.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	Wait For You

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s): general angst, swearing (I think)

“Angel, I-” Crowley’s voice broke before he could even think of what he was going to say, but there was something in the way the pearly eyes of the angel in question shot up to look at him, something that understood everything that Crowley himself didn’t.

Aziraphale had known that this was going to happen at some point, but that didn’t make him any more prepared for the conversation he knew they were about to have. He nodded deeply, taking great care to not show any hint of annoyance or irritation, knowing that consciously or not, Crowley was looking for any sign that told him his feelings weren’t valid and that he should shut up right there and then. He moved so that he was sitting opposite Crowley instead of straddling him, pulling him into a hug that almost glowed from the love he poured graciously into it. He took it gratefully, throwing his arms around Aziraphale’s neck and burying his face into the crook of his neck. He held onto him for dear life as he sobbed, trying to be as quiet as possible from instinct. The angel cradled the back of his head as he did so, the painful break in his heart deepening with each second that passed; he wasn’t sure if it was from the tiny sobs that escaped his mouth or the fact that they were barely audible. He didn’t even want to think about why he felt the need to stay silent.

Once he’d started, he just couldn’t stop, no matter how hard he tried. Every time he thought he had his emotions buried down, they would resurface when he was reminded of how soft Aziraphale was, and he meant that both figuratively and literally. He couldn’t silence the voice in his head that screamed at him that _he didn’t deserve this he didn’t deserve this he didn’t deserve this_ , repeating over and over again like some morbid mantra.

Despite everything that he was, there was something inside of him, something fuzzy and warm and alien, something he hadn’t felt any remnant of since before the Fall. It terrified him because deep down he knew what it was. It was the sensation of butterflies in your stomach, and your heart racing at a greyhound’s speed, and the sinking realisation that hit you like a ton of bricks that you only got when it was far too late and you were in too deep. It was quite possibly the only thing that united each and every human on God’s green earth.

Love.

Or the closest thing a demon could experience. And that was exactly what terrified Crowley so much, demons couldn’t love, _shouldn’t_ love. He knew that, Aziraphale knew that, everyone knew that. It was one of the only things both Heaven and Hell agreed on, and they were few and far between. For millennia, it had been cruelly drilled into his head, and everyone else’s heads for that matter. So how the Heaven could Aziraphale be so blind? His angel was oblivious at the best of times, but he wasn’t an idiot. Was he just playing dumb for the sake of a love that couldn’t happen? Or was this all some sick game, carefully fabricated to mess with the demon’s head?

But Crowley held on tighter to his angel and the squeeze he got in return destroyed all of those fears in an instant. How could he ever imagine Aziraphale being that cruel? Sweet Aziraphale who never questioned, just acted as he saw best. No, this wasn’t his fault.

“Crowley,” he murmured, voice soft as the nonchalant clouds above them but still managing to make Crowley flinch slightly. Aziraphale must have felt it for his next words were even gentler, even slower, “Darling, you need to talk to me so I can help you.”

Crowley swallowed thickly as he felt the tears begin to subside slightly, “What if you can’t help me, angel?”

Aziraphale pulled away so he could look him in the eyes, any remainders of his heart shattering when he was met with a despair so intense, he struggled to maintain eye contact. However, he persisted; he wasn’t going to give up on him that easily, “Don’t be silly,” he carefully stroked the side of his face, brushing his hair out of the way, “Of course I can help you. I might not be able to fix everything, but it’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

“It’s not your problem to deal with, that wouldn’t be fair on you,” he cast his eyes down as he smiled sadly.

“It became my problem when I realised how much this was hurting you,” he said as firmly as he could without startling Crowley, “I can’t guarantee that I’ll understand, but we can figure this out together. You don’t have to be on your own.”

Even though he didn’t need it, he took a deep breath and, after a moment or two, he said, “This terrifies me, whatever this even is. We’re an angel and a demon, how is this ever going to work? I don’t want to put you in danger because I’m too selfish to stop this before it starts. Because if it does, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

“Who says this needs to be stopped?” he suggested.

“Heaven! Hell! I don’t know what they’ll do to you if they find out. For your sake, I can’t risk it.”

The angel shook his head at his defeated tone, “I don’t understand how you can call yourself selfish when you’re putting yourself through all this just to protect me,” he sighed, “You do realise that it scares me too, right?”

Crowley looked up at him in confusion, “ _You’re_ scared?”

“Of course I’m scared, darling,” he said sympathetically, “But that doesn’t mean I want to give this up,” he paused for a moment, “If you think about it, everything happens for a reason. The Almighty wouldn’t have let us bump into each other over and over again for millennia, and She wouldn’t have let us get to where we are now, if She didn’t want this to happen.”

“So, are you saying we were meant to be?” he raised an eyebrow sceptically, looking as though saying those words caused him a great deal of discomfort.

“Perhaps,” he shrugged, infinitely relieved that Crowley was starting to revert back to his usual self, “But there’s something else, isn’t there? I know you better than you know yourself sometimes. Something else is worrying you, what is it?”

Crowley found himself almost cursing Aziraphale’s intuition, but deep down he knew that he’d much rather do it this way than having to bring it up himself. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right, you almost always are.”

He let a small smile appear but quickly wiped it away, “What is it, darling? And take your time, I’m not going anywhere,” he added when he saw the hesitancy on Crowley’s face.

“I don’t deserve you,” he admitted quietly, “Whatever you’re trying to do for me, I’m not worth it.”

“Whoever told you that? Who’s made you feel like you’re not worthy of being loved…” he trailed off as the realisation sunk in. Maybe no one had ever outright told him he didn’t deserve good things, but the prejudice that Aziraphale himself had carried all these years, every little comment or snide remark; that amounted to a great deal. “Oh, Crowley, I’m so sorry-”

“No, no, no, no, no,” he rushed to assure him, pushing his own pain aside, “Angel, don’t apologise, it’s okay, you were right.”

“But I wasn’t right, Crowley,” he cried, “I’ve never been more wrong! Especially after everything you’ve been through, you deserve all the love in the world,” he paused for a moment before whispering, “I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like you were unworthy of being loved.”

“Angel…” he murmured as he felt the stinging tears well up in his golden eyes again, desperately trying to brush them away.

Aziraphale clasped his hand around Crowley’s wrist gently, bringing his hand away from his face and kissing it lightly, “That prejudice I carried, I promise that it was never really aimed at you. You’ve always been different, deep down I’ve known that since Eden. Something’s always been different about you. I haven’t quite been able to put my finger on it for a long time, but I know what it is now. What separates you from everyone I’ve ever met.”

“What is it?” he asked softly, listening intently to everything his angel had to say.

“Love, my dear. The love I sense from you isn’t quite like anything I’ve ever felt before, but it’s familiar somehow. Homely might be a better word for it,” he mused, more to himself than to anybody else.

His brows furrowed in confusion, “But I’m a demon,” he countered, stressing on the last word as if that explained everything perfectly, “Demons can’t love, I thought that was the whole point of – well, you know…” he said, leaving Aziraphale to fill in the blanks; the last thing he needed right now was to be reminded of The Fall.

“Yes, well, your aura says otherwise. I’ve no idea if it’s just you or not, but I think the important part is that it _is_ you. You’ve had love in your soul for six thousand years, you’ve shown it every time you’ve stopped me from getting discorporated or just stopped by for lunch. I think that makes you deserving of being loved in return, don’t you?”

Crowley looked at him blankly for a second before coming to his senses, “You’re just saying that to try and make me feel better.”

“Am I? Well how about this,” he contemplated what he was about to impart for a second, “What if I was to tell you that I too have had that love for six thousand years? What would you say then?”

“You deserve the world, angel,” he said immediately.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I would feel the same way about you?”

Crowley didn’t say anything to that, his mind had completely given up on trying to conjure up a response or at least rationalising everything that he’d just heard. His head was at a loss but his heart? His heart was swelling with each passing second with love for the angel sat opposite him, so he did the only thing that made any sense at the time: he kissed him. It lacked the passion and the drive from earlier that evening, but adoration and a strange kind of relief stood in its place, towering above any other feeling he’d ever felt. It sealed the deal between the two of them, surrounding them with a love that shone brighter than Aziraphale’s own halo, that burned harder than the fire behind Crowley’s eyes, that beat louder than their hearts would if they had them, synchronised and perfectly in time with one another. It was the bond that had kept their souls intertwined since that first conversation in the Garden of Eden. It was an all-encompassing love that almost made anything in its near vicinity bask in its glow, warm and welcoming and oh-so-familiar.

It was the overwhelming realisation of _yes, this is where I’m meant to be, this is what I’ve been searching for_.

It was home.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this, please let me know what you thought and leave a kudos if you'd be so kind! My tumblr's feministsatanworshipper if you want to pop in and say hi or whatever. Toodles.


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